


The Worst is Yet to Come

by JayEllGee



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Ben is so pure, Diego is a good bro, Diego is a soft himbo, Drug Addiction, Gen, One Shot, Pre-Canon, klaus is a hot mess, references to other siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:54:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26039011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JayEllGee/pseuds/JayEllGee
Summary: Diego gets a call about a burglary. He doesn’t expect it to be a family reunion. (Take places 5 years before S1)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 103





	The Worst is Yet to Come

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is set in 2014. Which is probably around the last time I wrote anything! Forgive me if I’m a bit rusty.  
> Title from “I Can’t Feel My Face” by the Weeknd, which was the big song at the time.  
> I don’t know police jargon. I tried.

June 2014. Queens.

_< Jamaica Hills. Suspicious Vehicle.>_

Patch looked almost angelic when she slept. Diego could just make out the top half of her face through the ajar bedroom door as he watched her from the kitchen countertop. He had perfected the exact distance, visibility and radio volume required to listen out for police dispatches whilst still being able to check if Patch was still asleep, but not be too close or too loud to wake her up in the process.

_< 10-5. Jamaica Hills. Suspicious Vehicle.>_

Diego had gotten in trouble before for borrowing Patch’s radio, but he had learned his lesson: don’t get caught. Don’t call in a 10-4. Don’t engage if the police are already on the scene. And above all else: Do Not Wake Up Patch. Plausible deniability. So what if Diego just so happened to be taking a late-night stroll through the neighbourhood when he saw a terrible disturbance? No, he didn’t hear it over a radio – how on earth could he beat the police to the scene if they got the message at the same time? No, Patch had no idea; she was fast asleep!

_< 23110\. JFK Expressway. Moving bus damaged by projectile. >_

He could probably get to the expressway pretty quickly but some punk kids throwing rocks at the number 74 wasn’t really Diego’s speed. The cops didn’t need the help of a superhero for petty vandalism and throwing knives at the little shit-heels seemed disproportionate to the crime. He had his own rules, even if he did have a tendency to break others.

_< Disturbance on the corner of Avenue R and Ocean. Possible robbery.>_

Bingo _._ Three blocks away. Diego turned off the radio and carefully put it back in Patch’s hiding place (behind the dish soap under the kitchen sink. Diego found it weeks ago.) A quick pat down assured him that he had his keys, his wallet and his throwing knives. Excellent. He grabbed his mask from _his_ hiding place (the decaf coffee can. As far as he knew Patch was none the wiser.)

He gave Patch one more quick glance on the off chance she had been stirred awake in the excitement.

Out like a light.

Showtime.

* * *

The house had the unlived-but-overused feel of an Airbnb. The collection of takeout menus and flyers for tourist attractions scattered across the coffee table seemed to confirm that. The door had been forced open, but it was a clean break. This was either an experienced criminal or a little punk who got lucky. Diego didn’t enjoy the prospect of either.

He kept his torch low, keeping the stream of light at a short distance. The burglar (or burglars) was upstairs and, by the sounds of things, had no idea that anyone else had joined them in the house. Diego clipped the torch back onto his belt, pressed his back against the wall and slowly began to creep up the stairs, trying to listen closer to the noises above him, his hands hovering vigilantly over his knives.

It sounded like just one voice: a man frantically muttering to himself in the room farthest from the staircase. Diego peered into all the other upstairs rooms just to be safe to find the bathroom, and guestroom empty save for only the most basic furniture. As he listened more acutely, Diego could make out the burglar deep in conversation with himself.

_“-not even so much as a box of Pop Tarts in the pantry … because everyone loves Pop Tarts … save your judgements for when you have to eat to survive, okay?”_

The thief was clearly unhinged. Diego grabbed a throwing knife; he would have to immobilise his opponent as quickly as possible. He didn’t like his chances against unpredictable people.

He leaped in the air, bursting the door open with a kick. The silhouette of the thief whipped around to face Diego, lifting up his arms in a defensive stance. Through the darkness, Diego could tell that the burglar was wearing a large coat. Jackpot. In one swift motion, Diego managed to land the blade perfectly between the assailant’s wrist and coat sleeve, pinning him to the dresser behind him.

“Sorry big guy,” Diego quipped. “You’re gonna have to get your Pop Tarts from commissary for the next four to si-“

Before he could finish, he found himself being thrown backwards from a powerful side kick to the chest. He crashed against the wall before landing face first onto the bed. At least it was a cushioned landing, but the mattress was clearly old, and it sank whenever he applied even the slightest bit of weight. He struggled to get back onto his feet.  
  


The thief used Diego’s struggle to give himself time to force the blade out of the dresser. Great. He could fight and now he had a weapon.

“Thanks for the knife,” he said in a shaky, almost giddy voice. “It’s so shiny, I’ll keep it for my memory box!”

Diego rolled onto the floor, leg swiping his opponent. In perfect unison, they both flipped themselves back into a standing position. What the hell? Who trained this guy?

Diego threw a punch, which was immediately blocked. It was like this guy knew all of Diego’s moves somehow. The thief pushed Diego’s blocked hand down and flung himself forward to headbutt him, which is exactly what Diego would have done in that situation. Diego pulled back, knocking the assailant off balance and throwing them both onto the sagging bed. Undeterred, the shadowy figure reached towards the head of the bed for the bedside lamp and Diego reached towards the foot of the bed for the light switch.

The sudden brightness did the trick and, dazed and disoriented, the opponent froze, clinging onto the lamp with his eyes screwed shut.

Diego froze too, but not because of the light. The man had a familiar face. One Diego hadn’t seen since he was seventeen. Since they were both seventeen. A mop of dark brown hair. A mess of skinny limbs. A pale, sullen expression.

“K-Klaus?”

  
“Uh...” Diego’s estranged brother squinted through the sudden brightness, taking in his attacker before a wave of recognition hit him too. “Diego?”

_(“Diego?”)_

“Diego!” Klaus broke into a smile, dropping the lamp to the floor with a shatter and throwing both his hands onto Diego’s shoulders. “Fancy meeting you here of all places.”

He was still very... flappy. Like those inflated waving tube guys that are always on display at car dealerships.

“I thought you were…” Diego tried to reroute his brain to the new information he had. “What are you doing here?”  
  


Klaus’ eyes shifted from side to side “well, what are _you_ doing here?”

“Trying to stop a burglary.” Diego grunted as adrenaline from fighting began to drain away and the blunt pain from being punched in the chest began to seep through.

“Uh, yeah, me too!” Klaus looked around the room. The dresser drawers had been pulled out and strewn across the floor. The closet doors had been flung open revealing it to be empty save for a few coat hangers. “But I guess they escaped by the time we got here; the place is _completely_ empty.”  
  


He looked quite annoyed by this revelation, but Diego had to laugh “nah, they’re empty handed. It’s an Airbnb by the looks of things. The owners weren’t going to have anything valuable in here – what ever idiots tried to rob the place didn’t get squat. Dumbasses.”  
  
“Heh, yeah, what numbsku-”

Before Klaus could finish speaking, Diego pulled him in for a hug. Klaus seemed startled by this initially but after a few seconds returned the gesture. “Oh, isn’t this sweet.”

Even after they broke free, Diego continued to hold onto Klaus’ elbows, a stupid grin spread across his face. He felt himself let out a contented sigh.

“It’s so good to see you Klaus.”

Now that they were both in the light, Diego managed to get a better look at his brother. He was still as scrawny and scruffy as ever. He’d added some eyeliner and a goatee to the look, but he was still very undeniably Klaus. If Diego was dressed to go unnoticed, Klaus was dressed for an amateur production of Godspell staged in a Hot Topic store; a floor length sheepskin coat, suede pants and deep v-neck t-shirt that didn’t really perform its supposed function of covering up the wearer.

“Aw man, I really thought you were a burglar for a second there.”

“Oh yeah...” Klaus said, looking around the ransacked bedroom. “You, uh... you heard a noise in here too?”

_(“You’re unbelievable.”)_

Klaus coughed loudly.  
  


“I, uh, I got a police dispatch about a potential break in-” Diego pointed over his shoulder as if the dispatch team were on the upstairs landing somehow.  
  


“-You’re a cop.” Klaus muttered through a nervous laugh.

  
“I- well... almost.” He wasn’t sure why it was so hard to explain. He joined the police academy. He flunked out. He went freelance. Nothing too complicated about that. But it still stung to admit that he had gone from elite trained child-superhero to not being able to get into the real police.

_The real police._ They’d be here any minute.

“We should get out of here,” he used one hand to flip the light back off and put the other behind Klaus, leading them both back down the stairs and to the front door.

“But the mask.” Klaus drew a phantom shape over his own eyes as he followed Diego towards their exit. “That’s not regulation, unless the NYPD had a strangely kinky redesign I didn’t know about.”  
  


“I’m more of a consultant.” Diego lied. He desperately wanted the subject to change. “Are you sure it’s just us? You said you heard a noise-”

“-Well, you know, I tend to hear more things than most.”  
  


_(“Really? Well can you hear this? You’re a terrible liar, Klaus!”)_

“-It’s probably just some poor lost spirit looking for her widow.” Klaus said quickly, bounding out of the house with his brother. “Wrong address, sorry ma’am! How tragic. Let’s go.”

Diego picked up his pace, leaving Klaus to scamper to catch up. “So how does dad feel about you going freelance?”  
  


Diego pulled of his mask and sighed. “He took it about as well as you leaving to follow Goldfrapp on tour.”  
  


“Ah, 2006. It was a different time. How long have you been out?”  
  


Diego stopped on his tracks. It was suddenly much colder outside. A sharp breeze made its way down his neck causing his whole body to shudder.

“Four years.”  
  


Klaus’s eyes widened and he clasped his hands on top of his head, his mouth agape in pleasant surprise. “Good for you Diego. No really. I’m happy for you.”

Diego caught himself smiling before he could stop it. He was happier now. _Much_ happier now. Being away from dad and his bullshit, never living up to his expectations, always in the shadow of “number one”. And it wasn’t like his other siblings could be jealous of Diego’s ranking because “number two” was literally the crappiest number and no one ever let him forget it. 

“Thanks bro,” he said softly. “And how about you? The last time I saw you, you were going through your teenage rebellion phase stealing bottles out of dad’s liquor cabinet.”

_(“Wow, thank god you outgrew that.”)_

Before Klaus could answer, their reunion was broken by the familiar red and blue flashing of police lights.

“I gotta go.” They said in unison.

Klaus swiftly began to make his away across the street, walking backwards so as still to face Diego. “Anyway, it was wonderful to catch up, bro. We should get brunch sometime, some eggs benedict, maybe a few crepes? Let me check my planner and I’ll get back with a few dates.”  
  


“No, wait. Klaus-”  
  


“It’s been fun, but I have a prior engagement with my buddy Skag, we go way back. Like family, you know.”  
  


“We’re _actual_ family!”

_(“Exactly!”)_

He bounced on the spot. Patch would wake up eventually and when she did, she’d wonder why Diego wasn’t in bed next to her. But it was _Klaus_. Funny, chaotic Klaus who would stuff himself into his shirt and wear the taxidermy stag heads proclaiming that he was a reverse centaur. Klaus who would convince Diego to sneak out to go buy their weight in candy from the newsstand on the corner of their street and binge on it until they both puked. Klaus who once removed all the recently added PVC pipes from every bathroom in the house to use as shell casings for his home-made fireworks. 

“Hold up.”

Diego jogged across the road to catch up with his brother. Klaus seemed slightly on edge, not that Diego blamed him; the NYPD weren’t friendly towards vigilantes.

Diego grabbed Klaus’ shoulder “I’m starving. C’mon let’s grab something and catch up properly. I’m buying.”

Klaus thought about it for a moment. Chewing his lip and contorting his face into a host of bizarre expressions. Yup, that was the Klaus Diego remembered.

_(“It beats cold Pop Tarts.”)_

Klaus put his own hand on top of Diego’s, his gangly body collapsing into resignation. “Well… if you’re buying.”

* * *

The diner was unsurprisingly quiet for the middle of the night. Only one other group were eating; a jet lagged-looking group of backpacking tourists who took photos of everything and anything that moved. They excitedly snapped Diego and Klaus as soon as they entered, something that hadn’t happened to Diego since he was a teenager and he doubted very much the tourists were starstruck by seeing two real-life members of the Umbrella Academy and more amused by the odd way they were both dressed.

The waitress poured them both a glass of water and left them with the menus before disappearing into the kitchen. Diego realised that he was suddenly starving and threw himself into the menu.

“So where are you living these days?” Diego gave his brother fleeting glances between reading through the appetisers. Klaus hadn’t so much as cracked the menu yet. He still had an uncertain, shifty look on his face and he had sunk so low into his chair he risked collapsing into himself.

“Here and there,” the grumbled. “What about you?”

“Here in Queens. I’ve been living with my lady friend for almost a year.”

At this, Klaus began to lift himself back up into the land of the living. “Diego’s got a girlfriend.” He leaned in closer. “What’s her name?”

Despite being a grown adult, Diego felt himself blush slightly. “Eudora.”

“Eudora,” Klaus repeated. He shut his eyes and began melting into his chair again. Diego furrowed his brow.

“You not eating?”

“No-no I am I just…” Klaus covered his face with his hands. He couldn’t seem to sit in any one position for more than a few seconds. He began fidgeting with his napkin. “I just don’t feel that great.”

Diego looked at Klaus a little more closely. There were small beads of sweat clinging to his messy hair. The pupils of his eyes were tiny pinpricks. The bags under his eyes could carry the contents of an entire house. He had ripped his paper napkin into tiny shreds of confetti and was now chewing his straw into oblivion. The brightness seemed to be bothering him. Whenever a car passed, he flinched at the headlights.

Diego had seen that look many times before on the faces of muggers and burglars desperate for some cash or items to pawn so they could get their next fix.

But surely not. Not Klaus.

Diego cleared his throat. “D’you know what?”

“What,” Klaus groaned. He seemed utterly miserable.

“Sometimes I just... look at our tattoo.” Diego rolled up the sleeve, revealing the umbrella on his forearm.” And I remember the fun times we had as kids. Back when we used to save the world, remember?”

“How could I forget? We had our own Saturday morning cartoon.”

_(“We solved mysteries with the Harlem Globetrotters.”)_

“Can I see it?” Asked Diego. “Your tattoo?”

“It’s not any different from yours.”

“C’mon Klaus, for old time’s sake.”

“You know, I have way cooler ones now, these ones on my hands were done by this sculptor I used to do some nude modelling for-”

_SHHHNK_

Diego threw the butter knife square between Klaus’ middle and ring fingers on his “hello” hand.

_(“Klaus. He already knows.”)_

Klaus sighed. Surrendering a pale, bony wrist to his brother, not quite daring to look at him. Diego didn’t even need to pull up the jacket sleeve that far to see the tell-tale bruises and scabs riddled across his brother’s arm.

“Jesus.”

“It’s not as bad as it looks.”

“Really? Because w-w-wha. W-wha-”

Klaus seized the opportunity to snatch his hand away, covering up the damage he had done over the years. “You’re getting upset-”

“-Damn right I’m getting upset!” Diego grabbed his knife back, clenching it in this fist for comfort. “What are doing to yourself, man?”

“It’s fine. It’s _medicinal_ ,” Klaus insisted, waving around his chewed-up straw as if trying to conduct his own bullshit. “To keep those pesky spirits out. Just think of it like noise cancelling headphones for the soul.”

Diego shook his head in disbelief. “You were siphoning dad’s cognac and smoking pot-“

“-Yes, but that doesn’t really hit the spot the way grade-A narcotics do.”

“There was no burglar!” Diego shouted in sudden realisation.

“I mean… there was me but-“

“-It was an Airbnb.” They both said at the same time.

“So…” Klaus shoved his face back into his hands. “I’m still out.”

They sat in silence for a while. The waitress, perhaps knowing it was a bad idea to get their orders right now, never came back.

“Look,” Diego said after a long while. “I get it. We had a sucky childhood. We have these… abilities that we didn’t understand or ask for-“

Klaus banged his fists against the table. He was uncharacteristically stiff and glaring at Diego from across the table. “Come off it Diego. You throw things. I get haunted. Every sober second of my life I’m hounded by corpses.”

He took a few much-needed deep breaths to untense himself. He was getting unnervingly sweaty now. “But yeah, you’re really good at darts. I can only imagine the struggle.”

Diego reached across the table to take a hold of Klaus’ still-clenched hands. “Let me help.”

Klaus let out a hollow laugh “I don’t need help, I’m fine.”

He freed his hands from Diego’s and spread his arms open as if putting himself on display in an attempt to demonstrate that this hot mess of skin and bones was somehow anyone’s definition of “fine”.

“Please. Come home with me, you can get it all out of your system, we can get you clean-”

“ _We_?”

_(“He’s only trying to help.”)_

“Let me take care of you.”

_(“He’s our brother.”)_

“At the very least it’s a place to stay tonight.”

Klaus chewed on this for a moment or two. Since the break in was a bust he only really seemed to have two options: withdraw at Diego’s or withdraw on the streets. At least Diego had hot water and a futon.

“Okay. I’ll come with you.”

* * *

Diego gently shook Patch from her sleep. He felt guilty for waking her from what looked like a good dream, but it seemed like a better idea than letting her wake up in the morning to a strange junkie sleeping on the living room pullout.

“Hmm? Whassamatter?” She hadn’t committed to opening her eyes yet, but her hand began to reach for her gun in the bedside drawer.

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Diego insisted, stopping her from grabbing a weapon while she was still half-asleep. “It’s a long story, but I bumped into one of my brothers tonight and he needs a place to crash.”

“Your brother?” Patch said croakily “as in-“

“-Yeah, the boarding school for kidnapped superchildren,” Diego said in a hushed tone. “I’ll explain in the morning. I’m gonna grab him some blankets, you can go back to sleep.”

“Mkay,” she said, curling back into the bedsheets. “It’s not the one with a weird thing for your sister is it?”

“No.”

“Good.” She let out a long yawn. “G‘night.”

“G’night,” Diego brushed the flyaway hair from her face and then tiptoed over to the closet to grab some pillows and blankets for Klaus. If he had to guess how his night was going to go, this was exactly the last thing he imagined would happen. He’d have been less shocked to bump into Five. Hell, he’d have been less shocked to bump into _Ben_.

He scooped up what he needed and returned to the living room where Klaus was examining his surroundings with curiosity. It wasn’t the manor they became accustomed to as kids, but it sure as hell beat the underside of a bridge.

“Here,” Diego passed Klaus the bedding. “It’s not the comfiest mattress on the planet, but it does the job.”

_(“Say thank you.”)_

“Thank you Diego,” Klaus said as if someone were twisting his arm. “I appreciate it.”

“No trouble, we’re family remember?” Diego tried to get Klaus to mirror his smile, but his brother wasn’t playing along. “Just get a good sleep tonight okay? Help yourself to water or coffee or… whatever it is you need. And then tomorrow we can grab breakfast, take a walk in the park, go to the movies and watch whatever melodrama Allison’s in right now.”

Klaus tried to smile at this, but it looked more like he was seconds from bursting into tears.

“Hey-hey, this is just a rough spot, right?” Diego nodded his head assumingly. “You’ve been doing this alone for a long time, but now you’ve got me again and soon this will all just be a bad memory. Yeah?”

“Sure, bro.” Klaus fluffed the pillows a little before crashing into the futon and throwing the blanket over himself. “Just a bad memory.”

“Exactly.” Diego began to back away towards Patch in the bedroom. “I’m just in here if you need me, okay?”

Klaus didn’t respond. He must have already fallen asleep.

“Okay,” Diego said to no one who could listen. “This is fine. It’s going to be fine.”

He gave his brother one more glance before retreating into the bedroom and into his own bed.

* * *

Klaus lay as still as he could until he heard the tell-tale sound of Diego’s snoring. He flung the blanket off and jumped to his feet. Based on his earlier scan of the place, there was a laptop under the coffee table, a newish soundbar next to the tv and a decent quality leather jacket hanging on a coat rack by the door.

Ben, who had been checking out some framed photos on the wall, turned to give Klaus the usual speech.

“You can’t be serious right now.”

“Urgh, Ben-uh,” Klaus groaned. “Everything in my body hurts right now, can you spare me the lecture?”

“It’s bad enough breaking and entering, but stealing from your own brother?” Ben’s voice was raised and Klaus tried to “shush” him even though no one else could possibly hear. “It’s been eight years since we’ve been with our family, please don’t do this!”

“Hey-hey. Sobriety is a marathon, not a sprint. And Diego is trying to one-hundred metre dash this whole thing and that’s not how any of this works!” Klaus carefully unplugged the sound bar and tucked it under his arm “I can’t believe they bought the Goldfrapp thing, apparently the old man forgot to teach us how to detect sarcasm.”

He looked around for the laptop’s charger, but it wasn’t visible and he didn’t want to make more noise than necessary. The laptop on its own would still get him an okay amount of money.

“Klaus,” Ben urged, standing in front of him as if this could do anything. “If you do this you lose Diego’s trust, our family’s trust, forever. You’ll never be able to have any sort of relationship with them ever again.”

Klaus paused, looking between Ben, the stolen goods scooped under his arms and Diego’s bedroom door.

“Hmm. Compelling, but no.”

Ben shook his head. He wasn’t going to win this fight. He never won the fight. It’s hard to get through to someone when you _go_ through them instead. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t say goodbye.

One of the perks of being a ghost was that he could go through doors without having to open them first. Diego was deep in sleep, snoring loudly with an arm wrapped around his girlfriend. Ben didn’t really have reference for that felt like, but Diego seemed happy, and that’s all Ben could ask for. He didn’t want to think forward to the morning when Diego would wake up to find himself short a brother and several pawnable valuables.

So Ben chose to hold onto this moment instead.

_(“I’m so sorry. I wish I could make this stop. I’ve been trying my best, but I don’t know what to do.”)_

  
“C’mon, Ben,” muttered Klaus through an unlit cigarette as he made a beeline for the front door.

  
_(“I’ve really missed you Diego.”)_


End file.
